Web Weaver
by aemelia113
Summary: Marinette has had enough of lies and wants to silence them for good. Chat is just trying to keep his friend safe from herself and win an akuma fight without Ladybug. Another one of my akuma!Marinette oneshots. Cover image by DreamVixen2511. I didn't get my character design from their art, but it was a close match so I thought it would make a good cover. Check them on Deviantart!


A/N: No sin, no gore. Pretty tame for me. Don't own ML. As with most of my akuma!Marinette fics, it operates on the principle that the same thing that shields people from realizing the obvious prevents Hawk Moth or even akumatized Marinette herself from figuring out that she's Ladybug. Ship is Marichat, as always. Onwards and upwards!

Marinette sat with her head in her hands, shoulders tense with the effort of not crying. How could she have been so easily fooled? How could anyone?

It had been a terrible day of hurtful lies.

First, the second date she'd been on with a random cute bakery customer who had asked her out, which she'd accepted in an attempt to navigate away from her hopeless crush on Adrien, had been revealed to be nothing but an attempt to get into her pants. Jaques had never cared about getting to know her.

Then, Chloe had lied to the teacher to convince her that Marinette had decided to bail on a fashion competition when she was only a few minutes late because of an akuma attack. They had refused to let her in and she had been turned away, latest design trailing limply from her fingertips. It was a gorgeous belt woven in an intricate zigzag pattern from black corded leather, red silk ribbon, and pale gray canvas rope. She had designed the buckle herself as well, a spider gleaming in dark silver, the legs on the right side functioning as fasteners through the loops of the material. It was a different vibe from her usual designs, but she had been inspired by the cover of a book Juleka was reading earlier in the week.

But the final straw had come when she realized she had lied to herself. She had told herself that it was possible that Chat Noir might like her for who she was, not because she was Ladybug, but when she asked him if he would go out with her if he wasn't in love with Ladybug, he'd said no. Even though he said it as gently as possible, her heart had cracked.

Now here she was, trying and failing to hold it together left alone on her rooftop balcony. Her fingers tightened around the woven belt she'd worked so hard on for the contest. She needed something to hold on to as she felt her emotional control start to slip through her desperate grasp. The first tear snuck from between her eyelids without permission and fell on the belt in her hands. Its fellow traitorous companions followed.

Marinette heard a delicate noise of friction. She whipped her head up, eyes searching frantically for a black cat sliding across rooftops to tell her he hadn't meant it, or that he was sorry. But instead, she saw the flutter of dark butterfly wings. She flung herself away with a scream. She swung the buckle of the belt at it in a desperate attempt to ward it off, but it just slipped into the weave of the item with a puff of shadow.

The effect was instant. She felt darkness clawing at the edges of her mind, heard a deep, smooth voice plying her to give in. She yelled out her defiance, clutching her temples, eyes squeezed shut to block out the purple glow of the butterfly shape around her face. She crouched down and curled in on herself. She struggled mightily, grinding her teeth and pushing back against the invading presence in her brain as hard as she could. She felt beads of sweat prick at the surface of her skin from the effort.

She heard soft footsteps behind her for real this time, but could not spare the energy to look. That is, until she heard a familiar voice.

"Princess?" Chat asked with deep concern.

She snapped her face towards him, saw the horror on his face when he spotted the butterfly outline. She felt a modicum of her control give way when she laid eyes on part of the reason for her tears. It was enough for Hawk Moth.

"Kitty, help me," she whispered, moving one hand away from her face to reach for him.

Then all was darkness as her nemesis took over.

 _Poor girl, so lonely, so betrayed. They have lied to you once too often. I think it's time you weave your own tangled web. All you have to do is bring me Ladybug and Chat Noir's miraculous. Can you do that for me, Web Weaver?_

She felt her mouth shape the words, "Yes, Hawk Moth" before the shadows swallowed her whole.

Chat had been thrown by the question. They had just been hanging out on Marinette's roof when she asked it out of nowhere. She had been quiet and thoughtful, like she had something she wanted to say but couldn't figure out how.

" _If you didn't have Ladybug holding your heart, would I be someone that you would, oh, I don't know, go on a date with?" Marinette had asked._

" _Well, Princess, you know I care about you, but we're just friends. I can't really see us as anything else, Ladybug or no Ladybug," he'd told her._

" _I see. Just wondering. I had this date earlier that went kind of badly, and I just thought I'd ask. Thanks for stopping by, Kitty. I think I'm going to do some sketching, cheer myself up," she'd replied evenly enough._

 _He'd been shocked. He hadn't known she went on a date. And it went badly? She must be hurting right now._

" _Princess, do you want me to stay? We could talk-"_

" _No. Sorry, Chat. I think I just need a little time to myself right now. It was sweet of you to offer, though," she'd answered with a smile._

" _Oh. Okay. I guess I'll see you later, then," he'd stammered._

" _See you around, Chat Noir."_

He hadn't gone far, feeling like Marinette wasn't as fine as she claimed and wanting to stick close in case she changed her mind about wanting company. That was how, not too many minutes later, he heard the scream. He instantly recognized Marinette's voice and hurried back to her roof as fast as his feet could carry him.

He found her curled in on herself, back to him. She was holding her head, muttering "no, no, no" to herself over and over. Was she hurt? What had happened? Was it an akuma?

Then he spoke her nickname and she looked at him, making his heart stop. The purple butterfly he'd come to loathe framed her terrified, tear-stained face, red tingeing the area around her damp blue eyes. Her features contorted as though in pain.

Marinette reached out for him and pleaded, "Kitty, help me."

He didn't have time to move before her face went blank and she emotionlessly spoke words that sent chills up his spine.

"Yes, Hawk Moth."

He yelled her name as she disappeared under a seething cloud of darkness. He was so afraid for her. How could he fight such a dear friend? It had been bad enough when Nino had been the Bubbler, but sweet Marinette? Chat wasn't sure he could do this if she was anything like herself. When the dark disappeared, she was changed.

Her arms and lower legs were wrapped in red ribbons. The ones on her legs were part of strappy sandals and the ones on her arms looked like the tape on boxers' hands, but going all the way up her forearms. Her black leather shirt had spider web-like straps crisscrossing the chest and back and draped loosely over the rest of her torso in pleated folds. Her light gray pencil skirt was made of some kind of sturdy fabric and seemed to bind her legs too tight to move down to the knees. She was wearing a familiar-looking belt with a spider on it that was woven from the same colors as the rest of her getup.

Marinette had a tattoo of dozens of tiny spiders trailing down the right half of her face from temple to chin, even extending onto her neck. Her blue eyes had faded to a silver gray so pale it was almost colorless. He wasn't sure, but he thought they might have multiple pupils. Her dark hair had red and silver streaks and was woven into an intricate crown of tiny braids, held in place by silver combs that looked like little webs. The tips of her fingers were covered by silver caps that were like thimbles, but longer and wickedly sharp. Her earrings had small black spider charms dangling from them on thin chain link web strands. Her makeup was done similarly to Juleka's, but with dark red accents instead of purple.

The most astounding detail was the four long, pointy metal spider legs protruding from her back. The tips of two lightly rested on the ground next to her feet. The other two were arched over her head, looking poised to strike. Yet, she hadn't moved. She just stood there, observing him examining her. When she noticed that he was done taking her in, she tilted her head and calmly regarded him.

"Marinette?" he asked hesitantly, knowing that she would take offense to being called by her non-akuma name, bracing himself for the outburst.

"No. I am Web Weaver," she responded calmly. So calmly that her voice sounded dead. It also had this peculiar echoing, thrumming quality like a hundred voices speaking at once.

"Oh, okay," was all he could manage to say. He hadn't expected calmness. Maybe his Princess was still in there somewhere. "What do you want?"

"No more lies," she stated reasonably. Then the purple butterfly flickered over her face and she amended, "And your miraculous. It is nothing personal. It is the fee that I must repay in order to keep these abilities. I bear you no ill will, so if you would kindly hand over your ring, that would be much appreciated."

"No can do, Web Weaver. I kinda need it to cure you," he replied.

"A pity. I did not wish to fight you, but I suppose we must engage in this petty repeat of the typical cycle of these things once again. I can engage you in combat if I must," she sighed.

"I'd like to see you-" he was cut off by the two raised legs pinning him to the ground by the shoulders. The other two got his legs. She lowered herself to reach for his hand. She got her claws around his ring before he jackknifed his hips upward hard enough to dislodge three of the legs, which allowed him to slip out and regain his feet.

"Please hold still," she scolded without heat.

"But that would make it too easy!"

"Enough. I am wasting my time here. I simply need to go about my business and the bug will show up to interfere. I have no desire to play with a stray cat," Web Weaver dismissed coldly, launching herself off the roof and using her long metal legs to go from roof to roof, sometimes crawling over the walls.

Chat ran his hands aggressively through his hair. He felt frustrated. And guilty. It was at least partially his fault that the akuma had evilized Marinette. He needed to follow her before she could do any damage, hold her back until his Lady got there. She was a strange akuma, even more so than most: no anger, no delight in conflict or chaos. Only icy calm. He shook himself against the shiver in his skin and chased after the akuma.

He caught up to her because he followed the trail of cocooned people and buildings. He found people, either alone or in clusters bound in white threads from their feet to their mouths. No one was impeded from breathing, only from speaking. This must have been what she meant by no more lies. He found one guy about his age near the bakery webbed upside down in a particularly uncomfortable looking way. On a hunch, he sliced open the gag with his claws and asked him a question.

"You wouldn't happen to be the person who went on a date with a girl who works at the bakery today, would you?"

"Yeah. All I did was suggest we go back to my place since my parents weren't home and she flipped out," the dude huffed.

"Well that explains it," Chat growled.

He decided to cut the jerk down but leave him cocooned. No wonder Marinette had been upset. This idiot only wanted to take advantage instead of actually dating. Unbelievable. Some guys were so gross sometimes. He moved on to look for Web Weaver despite the protests of the abandoned moron. He found her finishing up Chloe's gag by spinning and weaving the threads with her needle-like fingertips. It looked almost like knitting. The threads just spiraled into existence at the tips of her silver fingers and she knotted them together like a net or a piece of lace and wrapped it around her victim.

"Web Weaver!"

She turned her head, but continued to finish up her Chloe trap. "Chat Noir. What a surprise. I was expecting your black and red partner to show up first. No matter. We can perform this dance first, I suppose," she stated.

"You never seem to show any emotion. Don't you feel anything?" Chat asked, genuinely wanting to know.

"Cats. Always curious," she scoffed blandly. "No. I do not. Feeling hurt too much, so I quit."

Chat ignored the pang that sent through him. He needed to focus.

"Well, you're certainly going to feel this!" he called, swinging his stick down at her, only to have it blocked by two crossed legs.

"Really, Chat. You are meant to be the one who is better at hand to hand combat. You have not yet landed a single hit. I find myself... disappointed at the lack of a challenge," she lamented.

Web Weaver drew him forward and punched him square in the jaw, sending him reeling. The rest of the fight progressed in a similar manner: jabs and blocks, his somewhat less successful than hers. He once got in a vicious scratch at her arm that he felt bad about, but she didn't even flinch, just tsked and used her threads to make a bandage to bind it. It occurred to Chat that emotions might not be the only thing she couldn't feel.

She was really good not only at using her metal legs to defend and attack, but also at hand to hand combat and spinning trip wires, shields, and other weapons with her threads. She also wasn't limited by gravity in the way that he was, either. He dodged one of her web snares and looked around for her only to spot her on the ceiling. Chat only barely rolled out of the way before she dropped down on him. He frantically scanned her for an object that could be holding the akuma. The web combs were definitely out. Marinette never wore anything in her hair. The belt was the most likely thing. It was the most complex looking item on her. It spoke of intentional laboring design. That was when he recognized it.

Marinette had been holding that while they were talking earlier. She had mentioned when they talked last week how excited she was to enter it in a contest today. Why would she still have it in the afternoon if she had already entered it? Something must have gone wrong there. He would have to ask her about it later after he'd cured her. How was he going to fix the akuma without Ladybug? Where was she anyway? Right now, it didn't matter. He just had to get close enough to get that belt.

Chat allowed Web Weaver to draw him close with her metal legs and then he broke only a couple strings in the belt, not wanting to break something Marinette had worked so hard on when Ladybug wasn't around to fix it. It was enough that the akuma fluttered out. Web Weaver's eyes brightened to Marinette's vivid blue and she quickly spun a net from her threads and captured the little rogue butterfly. She sealed it in a cocoon, managing to tie off the last thread just as the darkness washed over her and she turned back into Marinette. She blinked groggily, holding one hand to her face as if to make sure it was still hers.

Chat ran over and threw his arms around her, hugging her tight. She returned the hug with the arm that wasn't holding the akuma cocoon. They stood holding each other for a few moments before Chat pulled back and rested his claws on her waist. He pressed his forehead to hers and sighed.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Princess."

"I'm glad you're okay, too, Chat. Since the webbing is made from its own magic, this should hold the akuma until you can get it to Ladybug. I'm so sorry for everything," she apologized.

Wait, she remembered? That was new. And not helpful right now, so he would let it slide for the moment.

"It's not your fault, Marinette. Let me take you home before I go out looking for Ladybug," he offered.

"Okay," she agreed. She slipped her free hand around his neck and let him carry her to her roof.

He set her down gently and gave her another quick hug. "I'll be back as soon as I find Ladybug and get the city cleaned up. I think that we should talk. Is that alright, Princess?"

"Yes, Kitty. I'll see you then."

Marinette called for spots on and helped Chat fix the city, then swung back home on her yo-yo. She detransformed and waited for him on the lounge chair. He arrived not much later and vaulted over the railing to land beside her. She drew up her knees and rested her chin on them to make room for him to perch next to her on the cushion.

"How's the arm? I noticed it was still hurt and bandaged when you turned back earlier," he said.

"Oh, that. I'm fine. It didn't even hurt and Ladybug's lucky charm thing patched me up. Good as new."

"Good, good," he mumbled. There was a long pause. "Do you want to tell me what led to you getting akumatized today?" he asked quietly, looking at her intently.

She did want to. Marinette wanted to tell him everything. So she did. She explained the turns her day had taken, leaving out any mention of her other identity, concluding with an explanation of her out of nowhere question during their conversation.

"I just wanted to know if someone could like me for me, you know?" she sighed, burying her face in her knees.

A clawed hand lifted her chin. "Hey. You're amazing. Any guy who doesn't see that is an idiot."

"But you said-"

"I thought you were still waiting for your prince," he explained. "I didn't want to blur the lines and make you confused about how you felt. But you went on that date with a stranger, and I realized..."

"That I got tired of waiting for him to notice me?" she finished. "Yeah. I'm trying to move on. As it turns out, Jacques was a poor choice of person to do it with."

"When you were asking me, was it just for the general male opinion, or did you really mean it? Wanting to go out with me, that is," he clarified.

"I meant it," she admitted quietly. "You're a good friend, and I don't want to screw it up, so I kept it subtle, but now I'm getting the sense that you might be interested. What about your Lady?"

"Ladybug is amazing, but she's never going to see me as anything other than her goofball partner in crime fighting. She's made her intentions clear from the start. I guess I always sort of hoped I would wear her down, but maybe relationships are better initiated by mutual attraction..." he trailed off, gazing into her eyes.

He was closer than he'd been before. How had she not noticed the space between their faces shrinking? They both noticed now, but neither of them moved.

"Kitty, what would you say if I asked you out right now?" Marinette breathed.

"I would say that a relationship between the two of us could get complicated fast. Secret identity, double life to maintain, battling evil, not to mention your own life balance and homework and avoiding having the press hounding you. It would be sporadic time together and secret rendezvous and messy logistics and possibly very hard to keep up," he pointed out.

"I don't mind a little hard work," Marinette countered.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" he relented with a grin.

"I suppose an actual exchange of words of confirmation," Marinette teased.

"Go on, then," he prodded.

"You don't want the honor, Mr. Knight in shining armor?" she asked.

"I'm chivalrous, not an antiquated chauvinist. You asked first," he insisted, looking affronted at the implication that he contributed to the patriarchy.

"Okay, then. Chat Noir, will you be my boyfriend?"

"With pleasure, Marinette Dupain-Cheng," Chat purred.

"Then kiss me," she ordered in mock seriousness. Neither of them could stop beaming.

"As my Princess commands," he agreed.

They met slowly. Lips were warm and soft. Hands gently rested on the skin of necks. The kiss was long, but chaste.

Chat slid up next to Marinette and she snuggled into his side. They sat like that a long while, just watching the clouds and talking sometimes. It was... nice. It was good.

Chat stood and stretched at sunset, time for him to go. They parted with another kiss and a promise to meet up soon. Marinette said she would bring croissants, and Chat teased her that she was buttering him up for something. She laughed at his terrible pun and bid him farewell.

"See you soon, Kitty."

"I look forward to it, Princess."

That was it. No fireworks, no near-death escapes fueling desperate adrenalin-induced passion, no hot and hungry makeout. Just sweetness and mutual fondness built on friendship and the possibility of more to come. It was simple, and yet beautiful.

It was love.


End file.
